


Take Me to the Riot

by BitchFaceSam



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: C137cest, Incest, M/M, PWP, Piercings, Punk Morty Smith, Punk Rick Sanchez, Smut, Tattoos, handjobs, morty rides a motorcycle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5948080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitchFaceSam/pseuds/BitchFaceSam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morty's favorite thing to do is watch Rick's band. Morty's second favorite thing is to go home with Rick after the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me to the Riot

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by [this](http://prepare-to-sin.tumblr.com/post/138892426860/alcohol-based-markers-smell-pretty-good-i-got) fan art over on tumblr. Prepare-to-sin drew a lovely punk morty that inspired this fic. Just, guh. Anyway, this is my first R&M fic and I pretty much wrote what I wanted to read. Song title from the Stars song, Take Me to the Riot, which I listened to while writing this. Alright, go.

Morty stared at the stage, a slight frown on his lips.

 

He wasn't such a fan of the venue that the Flesh Curtains were playing that night. Sure, it looked rock n' roll, but the more Morty had looked, the more he had realized the whole place was a big fucking _joke_. The graffiti on the walls was all from the same paint, the blemishes on the furniture were too intentional, fuck, the bathrooms were even clean, and that's the most tell tale sign of a punk bar. This place was sterile. Like a soccer mom had decided she wanted to be 'cool.'

 

He scoffed, shaking his head and letting his eyes trail back up to the stage. Morty was sitting on the far side of the bar but the large group of fans that was crowding most of his view didn't keep him from being able to meet Rick's eyes. He smirked, hoping Rick would notice. This bar wasn't ready for this shit, Morty thought. This was the first time that the Flesh Curtains had played at the Plim Plom Tavern, and it was going to be great.

 

Squanchy started with a heavy beat, and, soon enough, Rick began howing along with Birdperson to the lyrics of their first song of the night. Morty got that feeling, the same one he got every time he watched Rick play bass and scream his heart out, and he took another drink of his beer. It was going to be a long night.  
  
By the fifth song and four beers in, Morty was feeling _nice_. He even stood up and made his way towards the stage, avoiding the elbows and fists. Even though his boots were heavy as fuck, Morty jumped with the rest of the crowd as the music seemed to shake the house.  
  
It was when the first bottle shattered that the management at the bar began to freak out. Morty was almost laughing as the chaos began to unfold. Through two fights, lots of screaming, and a flipped over table, Rick manages to continue playing. They make it another song and a half before they're ushered off the stage by a panicking girl with a nose ring and a scowl.

 

Morty makes his way backstage, spotting Rick sitting on one of the house amps.

 

“Y-you guys did well,” Morty praises, leaning against one of the buildings support beams. “Seems like you got them pumped up enough, Rick.”

  
“It's not us,” Rick takes a swig of his beer, “that gets them pumped. It's the fact that they're actually figuring out the point of fucking the system. They'rUUP, they're getting pumped over themselves.”

 

Morty rolls his eyes. Rick's never going to be able to take a compliment. He settles for reaching out and tugging on Rick's scrappy black t-shirt. “Come on, let's go home.”

 

Rick's eyes darken and dart down to Morty's lips, lingering on the silver hoop on his lip. “W-whatever you want, Morty.”

 

After saying goodbyes to the rest of the band and Morty muttering a quick apology about the upturned table to the enraged bar manager, the two make their way to the parking lot where Morty's motorcycle is parked. Morty swings a leg over the bike and lifts it, waiting for Rick to get on. The ride home is chilly but the warmth of Rick along his back makes it worth not having worn his leather jacket.

 

Their flat was small, but honestly, Morty was glad because Rick left just as much half finished garbage lying around as he did actually useful inventions and more space would only mean more junk. The only nice thing was that Rick seemed to respect his no 'inventing' in the bedroom rule because it made it easier for him to crowd Rick onto the bed.

 

Rick rested on his elbows and looked up at Morty while Morty straddled him, erection already pressing hard along his jeans.  
  
“I see you're all ready to go, M-morty,” Rick chuckles.

 

Morty chooses to ignore him and make his way down to Rick's stomach, lips finding the sliver of skin peeking out between the torn t-shirt and Rick's low riding jeans. He latches on to Rick's hip bone, mouthing at the flesh before scraping lightly with his teeth. Rick's hips buck, knocking into Morty's chest.

 

“F-fucking tease, Morty. That's what you are, a fucking tease.”

 

Morty pulls back, looking down at Rick innocently. “Tease? Aw, geeze, Rick. Is that what you're going to call me? A-nd here I thought you _liked_ foreplay. I guess if you just want me to fuck myself on your cock and be done with it, I can,” Morty shrugs.

 

Rick groans and reaches out, grabbing Morty and hauling him closer. Their lips smack against each other and soon Rick is furiously licking his way into Morty's mouth and running his tongue along Morty's.

 

Morty hums happily as Rick grinds up against him. Dirty talk always got Rick active. Rick's hands make their way to Morty's ass, grabbing the cheeks and somehow trying to press Morty against him even harder.

 

By the time Morty is thoroughly dazed and panting, Rick finally makes his way to Morty's jeans, undoing them and pulling them down far enough that he can reach Morty's cock. Spitting on his hand, Rick wraps it around him and begins to jerk Morty off while biting at his neck.

 

“R-Rick,” Morty stutters and arches into him, “R-ick, please, p-please.”

  
“Please, what, Morty?” Rick pauses to ask before leaning up and pulling Morty's studded earlobe into his mouth.

  
“Please don't stop,” Morty is whining though his lips. It's too much, the sight of Morty chewing on his bottom lip to keep keep from pissing off their neighbors, his eyes closed as he bucks his hips into Rick's hand.

 

By the time Morty finishes, cum splattering over Rick's stomach and dribbling down his hand, Rick's already gotten off, dick in his pants untouched. Morty takes one look at the blush on Rick's face and the adverted gaze and knows. He just smiles, falling onto Rick and nosing up to his neck, breath still coming out quick and fast.

  
“I-I think it's hot, Rick,” Morty says as he licks along a swirling tattoo on Rick's neck. “I-it's pretty great that you can get off to my face, Rick.”

  
“It's not just your face, Morty you asshole,” Rick stammers, glad that Morty's face is shoved in the crook his neck and not staring at his expression.

 

“Mm, love you, too, Rick.”

 

Morty passes out against Rick daydreaming about next week's show.

 

 


End file.
